


Wherever you go, I go

by cassiemortmain



Series: Swift as a deer, quiet as a shadow [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: 'We're Alive' Sex, Declarations Of Love, F/M, First Love, POV Gendry, Romance, What Happens After
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-04-23 06:19:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19145278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassiemortmain/pseuds/cassiemortmain
Summary: The Battle of Winterfell is over.  And Arya and Gendry only have one thing on their minds.  Each other.  Post-Episode 8.03 AU.





	Wherever you go, I go

**Author's Note:**

> This is the third fic in my Gendrya series - the one where I write my own post-8.03 AU, and create what I wish had happened for them on the show.
> 
> So needless to say, it's smut and fluff in abundance - with a little bit of plot thrown in. ;)

He’s never imagined a morning like it.  He wonders if anyone ever has.

A battle to save the world.  Such carnage, such death. Followed by silence, falling from a sky of grey crystal, falling over them all.

Now, he has only one thing on his mind.

_Where is she?  Did she make it through?_

He races through the courtyard, scanning the faces of the dead, the wounded, but he can’t find her. 

Then, an instinct makes him turn his head, to see a sight that makes him smile.

It’s her.  Bloodied, battered, but alive.  Wheeling her brother back through the gates of the fortress, with the dawn behind them.

Bran speaks first.  “It’s Arya you have to thank for our victory.  She killed the Night King.  She saved my life, she saved all our lives.”

Her family runs up and surrounds her.  Jon has her in a bear hug, lifting her off her feet.  "My sister – the hero of Winterfell!"

Gendry’s standing in the crowd, watching on as the cheers rise.

"For fuck’s sake – you two, really?"  It's the Hound, who has appeared beside him.

"What are you talking about?"  

"I saw her – downstairs, before the battle.  You came out the same door a few minutes later.  Not the sharpest knife in the box, are you?"

"So, what of it?  We’ve known each other for years..."

A raised eyebrow.  "What of it, indeed?  Hard to believe that cold little bitch has a heart, let alone..."

"Don’t even think about finishing that sentence.  You’re not above a punch in the face."

"Easy, lover boy... I think she’s looking for you."

Gendry looks back over to where Arya is standing.  The Hound is right... her eyes are sifting through the crowd, seeking something.

Him, he hopes.

Then she finds him – and her eyes light up.

He smiles back at her before the crowd sweeps her away.

* * *

After the funerals, she comes looking for him.

She's pale, her face bruised and cut.  But she's smiling as she reaches up, touches his cheek.

"You made it, we both did."

"Arya, you’re amazing, wonderful... you... how..."

"It's over now, I just... hold me, please."

He steps forward, takes her in his arms, kisses her.  And it's as if his touch breaks her a little.  He can feel her letting go, after holding herself upright for so long.

Now they’re leaning against the wall, hidden in the shadows.  "All I could think about... was you... whether you were all right," he murmurs.  Kissing her cheeks, her eyes, her mouth, wherever he can reach.

"I know, me too, oh, I feel..."  

She pulls away, meets his gaze.  "There's going to be some kind of celebration tonight...  I don't think I want to go.  That's not me, I don't like heroes.  And I need some rest, I'm so... But will you come to me, afterwards?  My room’s on the top floor, last one on the right."

"As milady commands..."

* * *

When he leaves the feast, his name, his new name, is ringing in his ears as he hurries away.  Beyond the circle of light and noise, into the quiet darkness.

Up the stairs, along the torch-lit gallery.  Arriving outside her door, stopping to take a breath before he turns the handle.

Opening it so slowly... seeing the light of the moon streaming down on her bed. 

And she’s there, waiting for him. 

"I thought you’d never get here..."  She reaches out her hands.

He's there in three strides.  Lies down on the bed beside her, strokes her hair back from her face, wraps her in his arms.

And at first, they just kiss, kiss and hold each other.  Discovering the slow delights of  _being_  together.  

But the pull between them gets stronger with each caress.  And after a while, she sits up, pulls off the linen shift she’s wearing.

There’s nothing beneath it.

He puts his hand to her scars, strokes her there.  "Will you tell me about..."

"We were apart for a long time, you know.  I left Westeros for a while... And I learned how to fight, to kill.  That’s how I knew what to do with the Night King.  And this is where the scars come from... my training.  I almost died there."

He kisses her, pulling her against him, as if to take her pain on himself.  "But you didn’t die.  You lived."  His hands run over her skin, and he can almost taste her pulse as he puts his mouth to her throat. 

"I want... can we... roll over on your back, it's about time your clothes came off."

She doesn't hurry, not this time.  Unlacing, unbuckling, untying.  Her hands, her lips on each part of him that she uncovers.  Her warm breath making his skin tingle. 

Then she's on top of him, running her fingers over his chest.  "I remember feeling... it was the first time I saw you as a man.  I didn’t know where to look, do you remember?"

"When was... oh, that time at Harrenhal.  Yes, I remember.  But you were..."

"I was a young woman then... I wasn’t a child any more.  You didn’t know that, though, did you?"

"Of course not.  You were so young then... but now..."

"Now... you know who I am..." 

She puts her hands up to cup his face.  Kisses him deeply.

And there’s no more talking as she moves over him.

* * *

The mood shifts instantly, from tender to fierce.  The red mist of battle rising once more as he remembers what she has done.

He rolls her over, on top of her for the first time.  She gasps in delight, scratches his shoulders, kisses his neck.

They’re _fucking_ now, elemental, a storm at sea.  Rough, wild, almost angry in their intensity.  

He's a dark wave, crashing, pulling back, crashing again, stirred to a frenzy by her, the wild winter wind.

Lost in it, lost in her.  Outside of time, outside of thought.

He pushes her up the bed, grabbing hold of the headboard with one hand as he drives into her, over and over.  Groaning, from deep in his belly.  _Gods, oh Gods..._

And at last, the dark wave breaks, on the pale shore of her body, and falls away.  Coming to rest, to stillness.  To home.

Leaving him completely and utterly spent.  His eyes closed, his mouth on her breasts, her heartbeat still racing beneath his lips.

Their breathing slows, their sweat cools.  He falls asleep, her hands stroking the cropped hair on his head.

Right where he should be.

* * *

It’s still before dawn when he wakes, to find her sitting on the edge of the bed.  Staring out of the window, the last trace of moonlight turning her skin to silver. 

He sits up beside her, puts his hand to her cheek.  Staring at her as if she were a cool stream in the burning desert.

"Beautiful.... you're so beautiful," he says.

"So are you."  She smiles, drops her gaze, then looks back at him.

"I... I have to say it now.  Arya, I love you, I love you so much.  I have no idea what this life is going to bring our way, but I need you to know that.  And if love counts for anything..."

"You don't even know how much."  Her gaze is serious, holding his.  "I love you too, Gendry." 

She kisses him, warm and soft, fingers stroking his neck.  When she pulls away, her eyes stay closed for a moment, then they open.  She takes his hands in her own.

"Even when I was a child – you took care of me, you were always there for me, when no one else was.  I loved you then, with all my heart.  You were my whole world, you were everything to me.  When I lost you that day..."

There's a glimmer of tears in her eyes.  He lifts her hand to his lips, kisses the palm.

"I locked that part of me away, to survive.  But seeing you again, after all this time, being with you like this..."  She's smiling at him now.  "I realise nothing’s changed."

She moves into his arms and they hold each other tightly.  "My love, oh, my love..." he whispers into her hair.

"There’s something you need to know, I can’t not tell you," she says after a while.

"What is it?"  He pulls back, looks at her.

"I have to... there’s something I have to do.  Something I promised I would do, years ago."

"It’s about revenge, isn’t it?"

"How did you know that?"

"I know you."  He leans his forehead against hers, rests his hand on her cheek.  "I remember you every night, saying names aloud.  Is there someone still on that list?"

"Only one person.  Cersei.  She helped kill my father, and she has to die for it."

For a moment, she has that look in her eyes again.  The look she had before the battle, when she threw the knives so perfectly.

And he feels a rush of blood to his head, a desire to be closer to her.  Much closer.

So he moves behind her, his legs outside hers, his hands running up and down her body.  Her breasts, her sides, her hips.  His calloused fingers on her bare skin.

"How will you... I don’t need to ask that, do I?"  He breathes in the scent of her hair.  "You’re the one who killed the Night King.  A mere mortal should be easy for you, I suppose!"  

She sighs as his fingers brush over her nipples, feeling them rise up.  "Mmm, your hands, they’re so... I love the way they feel, I love how you..."

"Oh, really?  Could it be because they’re rough, the hands of a working man?"

He teases her with his touch, making her shiver and giggle.  Then he pulls her towards him.

"Come here to me, milady."

Her back's against his chest.  One of his hands moves to her belly, then down between her thighs, pushing them apart.

He starts stroking her clit, already swollen and wet.  "How does this feel?"

"Oh, oh, Gendry, it’s... don’t stop..."

Her eyes close and her head falls backwards.  He drops his mouth to the place where her neck and shoulder meet, biting her there, pulling her closer, feeling her open completely to him.

And when he turns her around to straddle him, slides into her, it’s all part of the same movement.

They’re locked together now, caught in a rhythm he couldn’t escape, even if he wanted to.

He's deep inside her, holding her close, face pressed to the soft skin above her collarbones as she rocks against him.  The heat from their bodies rising up as steam into the cold, clear air. 

Time seems to slow down around him.  Every second lasts for hours, every minute for days.  

The world will never end, not while he’s with her like this.

Making love to her like _this_.

Holding on for as long as he can.  "Please, oh please..." He's not even sure which one of them says it.

But finally, she cries out, clinging to him as she comes.

And he’s right there with her.  Both flying up into the brightening sky together.

As they come back down, he pulls her face to his, his mouth finding hers again, kisses that matter more than breath.

He’s never been closer to anyone in his life than he is to her in this moment.   _And if anyone ever tries to part me from her..._

When their kiss breaks, he looks into her eyes.  "Wherever you go, I go."

"I was hoping you’d say that."  Another long, deep kiss. 

Then they lie back down, still tangled together.  She snuggles against him, kissing his neck, murmuring his name, as he pulls the covers up over them both.

"There's still time for a bit more sleep before morning."

And for about ten minutes, it seems as if that's what is going to happen.  But then...

"Or, on the other hand... there may be a better way to use our time."

"Why, milady, I’m shocked!  You really are wanton, aren’t you?"

"Only when you’re around.  And you’re no better, don’t pretend you are..." She looks at him, biting her lip.

"I never said..."

"Can’t take the pace, hmm, old man?" She winks at him.  "We'll see about that..."

Her hand is on his cock, and when she starts to kiss his chest, his stomach, he realises he's not tired.

Not at all.

* * *

They ride out together from Winterfell ahead of the army, heading south, side by side.

A lone rider’s ahead of them on the road.  A rider they both recognise.

"I might have known he’d be here.  Let’s catch him up."  She's about to urge her horse forward.

"Wait a minute," he says, leaning over to take her hand.

"What is it?"

"He knows, he knows about us."

Her eyebrows shoot up.  "He knows?  How, when..."

"He saw us before the battle.  I think he... he seems to think it’s a good idea.  When I left the feast to come and find you, he was encouraging me.  Saying the dead were dead, and we were alive."

She grins.  "Who would have thought it?"  She pulls him towards her, kisses him, her eyes closing.

Then they hear the other man shout, his voice tinged with sarcasm even from this distance.  "Are you coming, _Lord_ Gendry?"

She looks at him.  "Who?"

"I was going to tell you, but somehow..." He breaks her gaze, then finds it again.  "The Queen, she made me legitimate after the battle - I'm Gendry Baratheon, Lord of Storm's End."

"You'll be a wonderful lord."

He stares at her.  "I don't care about that... I'll wander the world, Arya, as long as you're with me."

He lifts her hand to his mouth, kisses her fingers.  They smile at each other.

Then the Hound pulls up beside them.  "Oh for fuck's sake, you two.  Save it for later.  Come on, it's a long way to Kings Landing.  Let's move!"

**Author's Note:**

> After the show ended, I really hated the way things turned out for them. So I'm now writing two versions of their story in a Gendrya series which will follow two paths (as I needed them both) - a canon compliant, angsty path (with a fix it fic post-canon ending) and an AU, non canon compliant path. This fic is the second one of those.
> 
> I plan to tie both threads together again by the end of the series - which will be the happy ending I think they deserve!
> 
> The title of this story comes from a post I saw on Tumblr, where Joe Dempsie was being interviewed and he said - "And the thing about Gendry for this series is...essentially, wherever Arya goes, Gendry goes." All the feels! Talk about an actor knowing his character better than the writers. ;)


End file.
